


c'est pour le bébé

by FlashFlashFlash



Series: plus d’enfants, plus de joie [6]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Mania, Mpreg, Pregnancy Cravings, Recording, pregnant!patrick, studio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 11:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14714960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlashFlashFlash/pseuds/FlashFlashFlash
Summary: If you asked Patrick who his favourite person in the world was on Wednesday afternoon, he would probably tell you that it was Bronx.





	c'est pour le bébé

**Author's Note:**

> Just a filler I've been working on alongside my bandom big bang fic. Feel free to get in contact with me any time, my user is peppermintivy on tumblr (or you can use spearmintivy here, your choice) and on kik. I love talking to you guys!   
> -A

If you asked Patrick who his favourite person in the world was on Wednesday afternoon, he would probably tell you that it was Bronx. 

This is because, on that Wednesday afternoon, Bronx became an angel descended from the heavens, arriving at Joe's studio around two PM brandishing a pizza in one hand, and a bottle of barbecue sauce in the other. When he rings the door bell, Patrick nearly wets himself with excitement, and Joe almost jumps out of his skin. The craving for sweet potato fries died out pretty quickly after the first trimester had ended, replaced readily by their polenta cousin, but the barbecue sauce, something that had previously made both pregnant and non-pregnant Patrick retch, was still a firm favourite. 

"Jesus, Patrick!" Joe looks on in awe as Patrick practically inhales his first slice of pizza, but not before drizzling it with barbecue sauce, of course. "If you were that hungry, you should have said something earlier."

"No," Patrick shakes his head as he speaks through a full mouth. "I get hungry for specific things at specific times." He swallows. "Take too long fetching a craving and it'll make me sick. Everywhere. Just by smelling it." Another bite. "'S not good."

Joe blinks at him.

"I'll vouch for that. He puked in a pillow case last week." Bronx shrugs, and takes a seat at the mixing board, but looking over at the computer screen. "Hey, can I hear what you're doing?"

"There's barely anything there. We've been rearranging lyrics and playing with melodies forever now. We're not getting anything done," Joe groans at the mention of their writing session. "This album is not gonna be finished before that baby."

"It has to be," Patrick sighs. He stares glumly down at his bump, resisting the urge to rub it with his sticky fingers. "I can't write an album postpartum, dude." He looks up. "I'll go crazy."

"What are we gonna do, then?" Joe sighs.

"I don't know, I- I guess we could write after I give birth, only I don't know how emotionally stable I'm gonna be," Patrick says, drizzling barbecue sauce again. "It's completely possible that I'll have a complete breakdown, so you probably shouldn't rely on me."

Bronx takes a slice of pizza and fiddles with the computer. 

"What, are you worried about something? You know you can tell me if you are, right?" 

"I - I just - I kind of lost it after I had Joey, 'cause everything happened really fast, and I felt so out of control... I just had to do what everyone was telling me even though I didn't even want a hospital delivery, and-" Patrick swallows a lump in his throat. "For fuck's sake, I'm gonna cry," he says, wiping the beginnings of a tear from his left eye. "I think it could be really hard this time."

"We're never gonna pressure you into anything, dude. You and the baby are the priorities for us, and you know that, and you can have official maternity leave from the label if you want it... " Joe runs a hand through his grey-speckled hair. "The real problem is that we're spending all this time on it now and getting nothing done. You're a music-making-machine, dude, I don't know why it's not working." 

"Baby brain," Bronx pipes up from the desk chair, not even looking up, scrolling through the list of recordings. "It's a real thing. He doesn't realise he's doing it, but since he's been pregnant he's super easy to distract. I get away with everything, now." 

"Hey!" Patrick scolds, flushing. 

"Don't worry, Patrick. My mom keeps me in check, I'm only wild every other week." A sly smirk. "Seriously, though, it's pretty bad. You miss out entire steps in recipes, you say 'yes' when Dad asks you what time it is, and I have seen you try to turn the washing machine on with the light switch-" he points a finger at the suspect in question. "Don't even try to deny it."

"Huh." Joe laughs absently. "Marie used to do stuff like that." He ponders something quietly, smiling absently. "I still can't believe you're having another baby, Patrick." 

"Well, I fuckin' can," Patrick scoffs through a mouthful of pizza. "Honestly, you marry a guy one time and he thinks he has rights to your ass for life! I should make him pay rent on my uterus." 

"Ah! Ah!" Bronx cups his hands over his ears, yelling. "You gotta stop doing that! Stop talking about my dad getting you pregnant!" He shivers, eyelids fluttering. "I'm right here!"

"At least I'm not your mother." Patrick shrugs. "That would make it worse."

"Yeah, but, seriously, it's gross, and -" Bronx screws his face up. Patrick and Joe look back at him plainly. "If your parents gave explicit detail about their sex lives you'd feel weird about it too." 

"Come on, Bronx, grow up," Joe laughs, tone lacking real malice. "You're pretty much an adult yourself now, and if your parents wanna have a baby and talk honestly to you about it then they should." 

"Ugh, fine, whatever." Bronx rolls his eyes and gives up. His eyes flick over to Patrick, who has fallen momentarily silent, hand poised on bump. "You alright?" 

"Fuck," Patrick whispers. "Fuck, I think the elastic on my underwear just snapped." They all look at each other in silence for a few seconds. The hand on the clock ticks by. Joe snickers first, and then there's full-blown raucous laughter from all three of them, eyes watering, sides aching. 

By the time they finally calm down, they're grinning like madmen, still laughing and wiping away tears as Patrick says, "Thanks for bringing the pizza, B."

"Don't forget the sauce, though," Bronx jokes, raising an eyebrow and pointing a finger.

"Jesus, how could I?" Joe snorts. He takes a long, hard look at Bronx. "Say, you fancy coming in and doing jobs while we're writing, you know, helping with heavy equipment, setting up? Seeing as Mother Stump over here," he cocks a thumb at Patrick and his Bump™️. "Seems to be growing a little top heavy." Bronx considers it quietly for a second. "I'll pay you," Joe adds helpfully. 

"Yeah, sure, why not? As long as you feed me for free." 

Patrick grins, absentmindedly running his hands over his stomach and playing with his protruding belly button. 

Joe leans forwards and catches Bronx in a hand shake. "Deal."


End file.
